


Dance For You

by DirewolfSummer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Sirius too but we don't tell Remus about it, Unresolved Sexual Tension, pining remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirewolfSummer/pseuds/DirewolfSummer
Summary: "You knew he was madly in love with you. You knew he would settle for anything with you," And here Marlene gave him a look. "Yet you still... perhaps it's not my place to say this, but if you don't want to be with him, fucking be a man and tell him about it."On a cold night of February 1981, Remus was scolded by Sirius's ex-girlfriend Marlene. Idiots in love basically.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, implied Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes
Comments: 23
Kudos: 52





	Dance For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aryastark_valarmorghulis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastark_valarmorghulis/gifts).



> For Arya, my better half, my fandom twin, _my brilliant friend_. Without whom I'd never muster up the courage to write, much less in a second language.  
> A million thanks to my lovely beta GreyWolfandMoon and Awy, who sacrificed their precious Spring Festival Holiday and did a brilliant job in making my bad writing presentable. All remaining mistakes are mine.

> _I won't dance for anyone, but I would dance for you_
> 
> _and I wouldn't sing for anything, but I would sing for you_
> 
> _and I wouldn't lie for anyone, but I would lie for you_
> 
> _Tell me where to lie, tell me what to say_
> 
> _Tell me what to do, for you_
> 
> _and you can break my bones_
> 
> _you're the song I sing_
> 
> _between clenched teeth_
> 
> _\-- Dance for you, by Rachel D’Arcy_

They were supposed to go to Marlene’s birthday party later that day, but somehow they ended up in Sirius’s bed, as usual.

Just like everything else he was good at, Sirius was, unsurprisingly, great in bed too. It was so infuriating that Remus liked to think he must have gotten the experiences elsewhere, somewhere not even the Marauders knew and could follow. Otherwise the whole unjustified effortlessness made it that bit harder to swallow. Luckily Remus was not exactly the jealous type, so most of the time the idea almost seemed appealing.

But now, when Remus obeyed Sirius's instructions and got on all fours, Sirius’s hands sure and warm at his hips, all he could think of was, who have you been fucking. Who have you been fucking and where and when and how frequently and did you do, _ah, this_ to them too? Careful not to spill anything that was better left unsaid Remus clenched his teeth and bit back his desperation, waiting for Sirius to line up. Then Sirius pushed _in_ – it never got old and it was always intrusive and bigger than he imagined no matter how many times they had done this – and waited, and waited. As if of all the time he was torturing Remus now he was seeking permission, as if at this point Remus could still have had said no (as if Remus could say no to Sirius, ever). Remus put his head between his elbows and nodded aggressively, hopelessly, almost in defeat - and Sirius began to move at a punishing speed.

It seemed that they had always begun with this position, where they couldn't look into each other’s eyes and Sirius would stroke down Remus's spine, slowly, deliberately, notch after notch, smoothing Remus out like a piece of crumpled paper, before desire finally - inevitably - overtook a willingly seduced Remus. Remus supposed he _could_ think of that as a polite gesture on Sirius’s part, taking care of Remus’s inherent embarrassment before anything else. But he also knew Sirius too well to fool himself that way, really. That was the problem of growing up with someone, wasn’t it, when you had lived with them and fallen into sleep with them and listened to the rhythm of their shallow breathing only a few inches away every night for the half of your life, gradually you knew everything there was to know about them. Every habit, every eccentricity, every quick smile, every nice gesture and every careless cruelty in excruciating clarity. For someone as uncontainable as Sirius, quantifying words were too small and every attempt at it was fruitless. All his life Sirius had been dedicating himself to one thing and one thing only: to push boundaries, to challenge rules. And for him, the boundaries always _gave_.

And now Remus had become one of them too. Another stupid rule to _break_ , another boundary to _push in_. Sometimes Remus caught Sirius staring at him for a second too long, like Remus was a puzzle that he couldn’t crack. It made Remus feel uncomfortable and thrilled all at once, but then perhaps Sirius just had that kind of effect on people. What would happen after Sirius cracked him open? What then?

Again and again Sirius pounded into him, relentless, demanding his full attention which Remus had refused to give until now. It infuriated Sirius, Remus knew, this little mind-wandering habit of his; because once in a particularly acrid row Sirius had thrown in that accusation like a dagger. And Remus almost smiled. Wordlessly Sirius caught Remus's hand and laced their fingers together, sharp wrist bone against sharp wrist bone. It reminded Remus of their very beginning, of how his pulse had beaten like a dying bird under Sirius's thumb. Sixth Year, after-Quidditch party. Sirius had walked towards him across the full length of the Gryffindor common room, tense, blasé, back ramrod straight. Remus had been laughing with Lily about one thing or another, only noticing Sirius approaching at the corner of his eye. But then Sirius caught his wrist. Long, elegant fingers wrapping around his pulse point like a vice.

"Come." was the only warning Sirius gave before pulling him away.

Remus, hurt, confused, caught unawares, nevertheless let him. Later he would let Sirius do many things worse: kiss him, fuck him, hurt him, betray him, break his heart, kill his best friends, and all Remus could do was let him and let him and let him. But at that moment, Sirius was just leading him away, so it almost seemed laughably inconsequential in retrospect.

Sirius held the door open for him at the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's usual tut ("what a nice little gentleman you are"). When they shut the door along with the buzzing party behind, silence fell like a guillotine and stunned them both.

Sirius was the first to recover. He shrugged and led the way down the empty corridor, sure in his way that Remus would follow. Remus did. After a silence long enough to be considered uncomfortable even between them, Remus asked where they were going.

Sirius didn't answer; he took a sharp turn to a dusty reclusive corridor that no one had set foot in since perhaps the last century and signalled Remus to do the same. Remus was already wary of being involved in yet another Sirius’s spontaneous plan that would doubtlessly spiral into a hare-brained prank, made a conscious decision to stop. I am going back, he announced, not unlike a warning.

At that Sirius finally stopped. He turned abruptly, staring at Remus like he couldn’t believe it, like Remus had betrayed him. And said, Do you want a blowjob or not.

Remus didn’t like the challenge in his deceptively calm tone, at all. Didn’t like the patronisation in his stormy grey eyes nor the defiant tilt in his chin, but he said, yeah. Because why the fuck not.

Immediately Sirius barked out a laugh, and then closed the small distance between them in one stride and bent down a little to kiss Remus on the nose. "Good," he said.

+++

Afterwards, Sirius always got up first and went to shower. Already they had established a routine: a glance, a touch, what to say after the lingering awkwardness of coming together, who got to use the bathroom first, whose bed they would fall into that night. Sometimes Remus was almost proud: look, they had this friends-with-benefits thing all figured out; look how adult they were.

When the water began to run, Remus fished out a cigarette from Sirius’s favourite Silk Cut pack and lighted it up. Taking a deep drag he traced the curling smoke up until the ceiling. There was a crack in Sirius’s bedroom ceiling, spidery, inconspicuous, but there nonetheless. Just like the one in their relationship, Remus amused himself wryly. With distant interest Remus examined that crack, thinking, thinking that maybe that was how things had been and how things would always be between him and Sirius. Always something insidious, always something unbridgeable. He crossed his legs, careful not to let the body fluid leak. He did not have the heart to change the sheet yet.

The cigarette ash was burning long, so he tapped it against the rim of Sirius’ cup, perching precariously atop Remus’s books. Sirius hated it when he did that; always frowned and pretended to be offended. But no matter, because the “Top Dog” cup was Remus’s present for his seventeenth birthday, and Sirius liked Remus too much to say anything anyway.

See, that was the problem with them: it was not like that Sirius didn’t like him; he did, and when Sirius likes you, you know. His undivided attention commanded such nuclear power that everyone within its radius was ignited and incandescent.

Briefly, Remus considered the possibility of not taking a shower after Sirius, and wondered whether they could smell Sirius on him -- smell, that they had just had mind-blowing sex. But he immediately vetoed it and chastised his own pettiness: Christ, he was not going to make a point on the occasion of Sirius’s ex-girlfriend’s birthday party by not taking a shower.

He was distractedly leafing through the book when Sirius stepped out of the bathroom, towelling his hair dry. "Hey," Sirius addressed him like that was Remus's name. "Wanna go to the party together?"

Sometimes Sirius liked to ambush him like that, casually throwing out a question way too loaded to not mean _something_. Like a bait. Like a test.

Well, Remus wasn’t a Prefect for nothing. Calmly he looked up and said, better not. Because that was the full-mark answer, and that was surely what Sirius was expecting, right? Except that Sirius had looked at him like he was disappointed.

At Remus’s competency, probably. Or at his predictability. Whatever.

Remus meticulously disentangled the duvet wrapping around his waist - he was always unaccountably self-conscious after sex - and trudged his way towards the bathroom. Sirius was still standing in front of the door so Remus had to politely ask him to _move_ , and Sirius had the audacity to startle as if he had just been slapped.

Remus closed the door with a little more force than he intended. The bathroom still smelled like Sirius’s lemon shampoo, and when Remus ran the water he thought he had never hated anything more with such ferocious passion.

+++

It had not always been sunshine and flowers between them, of course, but it was not always this unhealthy, either. There was a time when Remus would do anything to impress Sirius, to prove to him that he was indispensable to Sirius as Sirius was indispensable to him.

The last summer before their graduation, Sirius came to Edinburgh to visit, so Remus took him to a stand-up comedian show because “Scotland has the best stand-up comedy festival this side of the world, Sirius, you heathen”. And also because he wanted Sirius to be happy. Sirius laughed at all the wrong places, but everybody just liked him as a rule so nobody shushed him or said anything. Including the comedian. Especially the comedian. He even came up to them after the show to ask what was so funny about him having a grandma.

Well because. Sirius said eloquently. And then they dissolved into uncontrollable laughter together.

Remus had never figured out how to make someone like him. Nor did he, for that matter, figure out how to make someone in particular to like him (back). He just woke up one day, brushed his teeth, put on his cleanest set of robe, and went down to the Great Hall to have his breakfast. And here he was, James Potter in all his bespectacled glory, dragging another black-haired boy in tow (albeit taller, posher, and grumpier), pushed his ridiculous glasses up his nose with his grubby little finger and said the magic words, hi, do you wanna be friends.

And Remus granted his wish like a genie.

Well, miracles happen only once, Remus supposed.

After the show, Sirius suggested walking home instead of taking the tube. Remus agreed without really thinking and stuffed his hands deep in his coat pocket. Night covered them like a blanket, and there were little flakes of snow in the air. They fell into coordinated steps, and Sirius was busy making up all kinds of ridiculous stories about the families who lived on this posh street. This family, for example, obviously does a living by assassination. Just look at their spotless doormat. Who else would be so obsessive about cleanliness? That house on your left looks like a haunted orphanage, do you think they hunt children for sport? The one on the right, on the other hand. Perfect for two young charming gentlemen like us. Fancy moving in with me, Moony?

Remus stopped dead in his tracks, and looked at Sirius with wide eyes. Grey, stormy eyes looked back. In the buttery light of the lamp Sirius looked unbearably handsome that it almost hurt to look. Remus forgot what he was going to say, forgot how to think or how to breathe. His voice came out small and shaky, what.

Sirius barked out a laugh, wrapping one arm around Remus’s thin shoulder. Not content with being a housewife, I see.

Remus pushed Sirius away only half-heartedly, and tried. Well no, Mrs Lupin, in this household everybody has to work.

You know what, it does have a certain ring to it. Mrs Lupin. Sounds like HOPE. Sirius popped the last syllable purely to annoy him, Remus just knew.

God you are awful.

Wow, no need to call me God yet. Sirius’s maniacal laughter ricocheted off the cobbled street, entirely out of place at this godforsaken hour.

But then, so was Sirius in any place. And Remus wouldn't trade it for anything.

+++

When James, Sirius, and Peter had just mastered Animagi, the wolf hadn’t taken the company very well and some full moons were particularly disastrous, probably because of Remus's raging teenage boy hormones. Stupid Wolf. But every time Remus woke up in the hospital wing, tired and bloodied and wrapped in bandages, Sirius was always there. The first light of winter dawn slanted through the high window, casting Sirius in a rare peaceful tranquillity. Remus knew he must have pampered Madam Pomfrey with good words in order to stay, and maybe had to skip a class or two. He was grateful, of course he was grateful, but he had also wanted to reach out and grab Sirius’s hair so much that it hurt.

The first time the Marauders had a “little accident” (as James neatly nicknamed it), Remus threw a small fit and banned his friends from coming with him. Naturally they ignored his very reasonable protests and came on the next full moon anyway, all cheeky grins and sparkly eyes. James even brought a chocolate frog with him under the Invisibility cloak (“Thank me later, mate.”). They didn’t seem to be able to grasp how deadly the wolf could be, and for that Remus was eternally grateful but also worried to death. Sirius seemed to be the only one who half understood what “class V dangerous beasts” meant, thanks to the vast private library inside Grimmauld Place, but he viewed it more like an exciting bonus rather than an imminent threat.

When, for the third time the "little accident" happened, Remus tried to voice his concern again. Only to be cut off by a very sleepy thus very irritated Sirius. “For the last time, Remus,” Sirius only called him _Remus_ when he was angry with him. “We won’t leave you alone. Not now, not ever. You’d better get that into your thick little skull, now. I really don’t understand how you keep getting high scores from McGonagall; must be that pretty little face.”

Remus gave him a weak smile. “That explains why you are her favourite, then.”

Sirius glared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. The volatility of Sirius’s temper never failed to amaze Remus, who was used to having an iron grip on his emotion ever since he was a kid. But most of the time Sirius’s predominant emotion was just boredom, so being a witness to his emotional rollercoaster felt like a privilege.

Just then the door opened and James's incrediably windswept head appeared. “Are you two up to no good again, mate?” He feigned astonishment in his best McGonagall voice.

Remus just smiled and shook his head.

The thing about James, Remus thought, was that he liked calling people “mate”, even when someone technically wasn’t his mate. He was naturally affectionate like that, touching people and hugging people and kissing people like it was nothing. Like it was _easy_. Remus could never do that.

Remus never called Sirius “mate” either and he wondered why. He remembered his Ancient Rune Professor once said that names had a particular magic to them that could only be unleashed when uttered by certain people in a certain way. Although she drew up that magic theory to explain some ancient magical sites in Scotland, Remus’s mind was quick to jump to himself and his friends. By the end of their fifth year, everyone had heard about the Marauders and their remarkable feats, but no one knew about Padfoot, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail. These nicknames were only uttered among themselves or during the execution of a prank, honoured like something holy.

Sirius personally was very fond of "Moony", partly because he said it sounded like a girl's name, partly because he himself had come up with it, which explained itself. Sirius liked to fancy himself clever, and the infuriating thing was that he _was_. No need to dig out his 9 Os in N.E.W.Ts, just watch how deftly he played Remus like a glove puppet and addled Remus's mind with lust so that everything in their co-dependent life seemed to be leading to that moment, fatefully, inevitably, rather than, you know, a demonstration of poor impulse control on Sirius’s part, and, as always, Remus’s indulgence on his friends and his pathetic need to be loved.

Sometimes Remus also wondered if it was better to fall in love with James instead. There was a prank in the fourth year involving a gender altering potion that had gone terribly wrong, causing Remus, the resident laboratory rat for the Marauders in all things potion, to be trapped in the opposite sex for a week. James had been incredibly insufferable but also incredibly sweet to Remus the whole week, jumping to defend Remus's honour whenever a Slytherin wolf-whistled or said something vulgar, like a knight in shining bloody armour. Both he and Peter had drawn great fun in pretending (and not so pretending) to leer at Remus, making the latter to wonder, not for the first time, his own poor taste in friends. The only one who showed the barest amount of human decency was Sirius, who determinedly refused to look Remus in the eye. And even then, Remus remembered the exact shape of his disappointment despite the spurt of gratitude he felt towards Sirius: I couldn't attract you even if I were born into the right sex.

All in all, James was very easy to love. Sirius, on the other hand.

+++

Someone had brought a dog to the party, and somehow it had ended up in Remus’s lap. It was a black dog, but much smaller than Padfoot, and (in Remus's humble and unbiased opinion) much cuter too. Remus didn't catch the dog's name when the owner thrust him into his hands before disappearing into a bedroom, so he decided to call him Snuffles because that was the name he'd always wanted for a dog.

Fortunately Snuffles had taken an instant liking to Remus. He even flipped onto his back to let Remus rub his belly. After a while Snuffles got bored playing with Remus, and began to tug insistently at Remus's trousers to get outside. Remus was a little tipsy already so he thought he might as well get some fresh air.

He held the dog and a glass of wine onto Marlene's balcony, and immediately shivered because of the night wind. The balcony was cold and deserted. Remus carried the dog to the little garden and let it down gently. Snuffles trodded on Marlene's dying flowers with abandon and yipped in excitement. Remus opened a rain-speckled folding chair and sat down to watch.

Snuffles happily ran back and forth, presenting Remus with different dead bits of plants every time. Remus's face was a bit hot between his palms, but his mind was cooling down. He liked quiet moments like this; sometimes he just couldn't stand people. Peter was chatty after a glass or two and James was loud, and Sirius was capital LOUD. He flirted with at least 15 people and kissed 3 different girls on the cheek (loudly), not that Remus was counting.

No, he told himself resolutely. He isn't your boyfriend or anything and he certainly doesn't have any obligations to you, Lupin. Stop staring at him like a love-sick puppy.

Except when Snuffles had finished his laps and ran back to hump Remus's leg, watching Remus with clear, innocent puppy eyes, Remus thought that both he and Snuffles knew perfectly well who was the love-sick puppy here, and it certainly wasn't Snuffles.

He was absentmindedly scratching behind the dog's ear when he heard the balcony door open again. At first he panicked because he thought it was Sirius, but it wasn't. It was a girl.

Marlene walked towards him in her dangerously high heels, the orange light of a cigarette dangling between her fingers. Remus was mesmerised by the way she walked, all delicate balance and hip swings, like a dance of its own. She was wearing a red slip dress and a suit jacket wrapped around her shoulder, more for the aesthetics than actually keeping out the cold.

"Oh, here you are. Sirius couldn't find you anywhere. Nearly went on a crusade, that one."

"Did he."

Marlene didn't answer his question. "What are you doing out here, Lupin? You are not smoking."

"Just finished," Remus lied. "I'm going inside."

"Stay," Marlene demanded, without giving a reason.

So Remus stayed, on the cold balcony on a February night with Sirius's last and longest girlfriend. Awkward silence suspended between them like the moon. Remus never knew where to put his hands in the presence of these extraordinarily beautiful people (Sirius didn’t count), and Marlene had never seemed to like him much. Remus was trying desperately to think up another polite excuse to leave when Marlene suddenly spoke.

"You know, Cas has always liked you. Said you were nice. Even had a little crush on you back then."

"But?" Remus prompted, because he sensed there was a "but".

"But I don't," she said after taking another drag. "Think you are nice, that is."

"Er..."

"Do you want to know what I think, Lupin? I think," Marlene ignored his poor attempt at conversation and continued. "I think that you are a cruel man who is good at playing with people's heart."

“I’m not…” Remus wasn’t sure what they are talking about anymore. Christ, he didn't date Dorcas before, did he?

"You _knew_ he was madly in love with you. You _knew_ he would settle for anything with you," And here Marlene gave him a _look_. "Yet you still... perhaps it's not my place to say this, but if you don't want to be with him, fucking be a man and tell him about it."

"I'm sorry, who are you talking about?" Remus shook his head a little. He was really confused now. She couldn't be talking about...

"Sirius. Who else?" Marlene glared at him like he was stupid. And maybe he was, Remus thought, because he certainly didn't know about _that_. Now he knew where all that hostility towards him was from.

"He can’t...I mean..." Remus tried, but then Dorcas was calling to Marlene, and Marlene extinguished her cigarette on the dead plant pot and went back inside.

+++

That night, they apparated home together but immediately went to their separate bedrooms, not even a perfunctory "Good night" was exchanged. Which, Remus thought when he was changing into his pyjamas, was rather impolite of Sirius.

Hearing that Sirius was in love with him from (none other than) Marlene was a shock for Remus, he had to admit. It was a prospect so improbable that Remus had never even given a thought of before. Remus had been so sure that Sirius must have known his own stupid crush on him since Fourth Year – obvious as he had been – and was just too polite/arrogant to refuse, and so had fucked him out of generosity or pity or some other deeper psychological shite that might or might not have something to do with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Remus, for his part, was just too tired. He had been in love with Sirius for so long that he had eliminated all possibilities of a life without Sirius or his own unrequited crush, complacent in any piece or form of Sirius that he could get his paws on. He had imagined many futures for Sirius, to be honest, and none of them had included himself. He had imagined Sirius to be a cool curse breaker, cruising around the world and conducting all kinds of research on magical artefacts; an Auror, because he had always said he wanted to be one, though how his anarchic punkness could be compatible with any institution baffled Remus; a healer, because he was good at potions and that Remus was selfish and wished Sirius could examine him and patch him up when the moon was particularly unforgiving; a muggle rock star, even; he absolutely had the devilish handsomeness to pull it off plus the glamorous swagger to make fans scream. Remus had never heard Sirius sing a tune so he cannot make a fair judgement, but he supposed in the end it wouldn't matter that much. There were lead singers who couldn't read notes and bass players who learned bass only after they joined. Besides, Sirius could always choose to drum.

Maybe one day Sirius would even meet a nice girl (what a girl) and settle down. Remus was 99% sure that he wasn't the marrying type. He was definitely the jealous type, though, so maybe he would marry out of spite. He would be a good husband and a good father, of that Remus was sure, because he had showed such fierce protectiveness of the selected few he loved. He was less sure if Sirius wanted to have children. He always acted as if disgusted when Prongs daydreamed about his future domesticity with Lily Evans, though whether it was because Sirius didn’t want children or because he simply couldn't stand Prongs being with anyone else other than himself was up for debate.

And yet, and yet.

Remus chewed Marlene's words in his head over and over, so much so they haunted even his dreams. In the dream, Dorcas had told Remus tearfully that she had his child from their one-night-stand, but she couldn’t bear to keep it because she was a lesbian. It didn’t make any sense even to dream-Remus, because a) he hasn’t had any one-night-stands since sleeping with Sirius, and b) since when was Dorcas a lesbian? Remus was exhausted from babysitting a very energetic baby all night long, and so the next morning he had woken up with a raging headache despite not having a hangover. 

The morning after Valentine’s day was a bit awkward for the both of them, as such mornings tended to be after a sudden violent physical intimacy. It took Remus another few weeks to muster up the courage to broach the subject, with rigid polite greetings and spontaneous casual sex scattered in between. For some reason sex had always come easier to them than other ways of communication, probably because Sirius had never said no to sex.

With winter gone emerged a chipper Sirius, who got up very early every morning and cooked them both breakfast. Therefore on the morning of his own birthday Remus decided that it might be as good a chance as any.

When he walked into the kitchen, Remus was greeted by the whirling sound of their washing machine and the refreshing smell of his favourite bergamot tea. Two spoons of milk and no sugar, just the way he liked it.

And under a very powerful warming spell, no less. Someone was in a good mood today.

“Ta,” Remus raised the teacup, and drank a grateful large gulp.

“ _De rien_ ,” Sirius said distractedly and didn't bother looking up. He was doing the crosswords in the _Daily Prophet_ , the only thing according to him wasn’t total bullshit in that paper. Remus watched him frown at a particularly tricky question and resolved to give him the newest edition of _Quirky Facts: All You Need To Know About Crosswords_ this year for his birthday.

“Em,” Remus cleared his throat, and Sirius promptly looked up at him like a dog. “Last time, Marlene said...” But looking at Sirius’s earnest eyes he suddenly couldn’t get the words out. “Never mind.”

“Remus Joanna Lupin,” Sirius said, “I swear to god – ”

“Well she said you were in love with me,” Remus said quickly, half wishing for Sirius to refute or, considering Sirius, laugh in his face.

Sirius didn’t refute. He threw Remus a long look, and then, spoke very carefully, in that insufferably posh accent when he was nervous, “It wasn’t I who told her about that.”

“I know. I know,” said Remus. “But that isn’t the point.”

“What is the point, then?”

He looked so genuinely baffled that Remus almost wanted to laugh. Surely he was just taking the piss; surely he knew how impossible it all had sounded. He tried to be patient. “The point, of course, is that you weren’t.”

“Well,” Sirius had never looked more dejected in Remus's memory. “I don’t normally go around and offer people blowjobs, you know.”

“OK,” Remus said. And then, hesitating, attempted a smile, “So are you offering one now? For the birthday boy?”

Sirius looked up then, eyes shining. “...If you want.”

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> Remus (after having rough, hard-core gay sex): Is he straight? He must be straight, right?  
> Credit where credit is due:  
> I once saw montparnasse made Sirius call Remus "Remus Jessica Lupin" and I was immediately smitten, so here is a little tribute <3  
> The "Top Dog" cup is inspired by muirin007's amazing art, and you can see it HERE  
> Last but not the least, HERE is a clip of Rachel D'Arcy singing Dance For You in the London Underground, which you should definitely check out because that girl can sing!


End file.
